Judgement
by Jasmine's Nightmares
Summary: Commander Shepard decides to visit the navigation room, some hour after midnight...and change Joker's life drastically.
1. Surrender

**Author's Notes:**

I _had_ to write this. It's been in my mind too long, just screaming to get out. It's rated M, basically for the first chapter, the rest could be considered T. If you're not 18 (or whatever age limit is approved by your country), don't get me into trouble for reading this. Just skip to the second chapter, you'll make sense of the story as is. The fic pretty much pleads its case on it's own, so...enjoy!

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**Disclaimer:**

I do not own any of the main characters or most of the settings that appear here, except for the Stellar Drifter and its surroundings. All rights reserved.

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**Judgement**

_She looks at me as though she would cry, but it is me that is crying. I am crying because I want to know her, I am crying because I will never know her. I am crying because I am afraid of what might happen should I set her free. I am also afraid of what might happen if I do not. I really should leave. I do not leave._

Brom, _The Muse_

**1.**

It was getting late at night, even by his own standards. He was a night owl, that much was certain, sometimes going weeks in a row without proper sleep. Tonight was no different, he just sat there gazing at the endless stars flying by between checking and rechecking the navigation panels. They were on course, he noded satisfactorily for the hundredth time. He could really use some sleep now, there was no point in lingering here any longer. But somehow the thought of being stuffed in a sleeping pod in the common room of the mess hall wasn't his idea of fun; it made him uneasy. It wasn't just the cramped space that made it difficult to even breathe. Anyone curious enough could stick his face to the transparent lid and see him drool all over his pillow. Who was he kidding? The whole thing was like a glass coffin. And he wasn't fucking Snowhite! No. Here he had control of the whole damn ship!

Two firm hands suddenly clamping at his shoulders made him jump on his seat. Startled for a second, he immediately realised who was standing behind him. He didn't need to turn around and look at her. Her smell was already clouding the navigation room, clouding his judgement like lethal gas.

- Well, what's keeping you up so late, Commander? He said in a merry tone.

Instead of an answer her hands pressed against the sides of his neck and firmly, but gently, she began rubbing his shoulderplates. After a hard day of sedentary work, a backrub was the next best thing, but he found with dismay, he couldn't enjoy it. Anxiety gripped him, his pulse raced and an unpleasant knot began forming in his throat.

- Do they teach that in military school? His lame attempt at a joke went largely unnoticed. It was obvious that this wasn't just professional interest. Her lack of response alone was intimidating. His nerves tensed even more.

- Relax, Joker. Her voice became a command that immediately registered in his brain. He closed his eyes and leaned back, not surrendering completely but still savoring her skillful touch. It was comforting in the most human way. It had been too long a time since anyone had done anything similar to him. He felt satisfied and grateful.

- Thank you, Commander. I appreciate it.

Again there was a lack of reply that triggered a silent alarm in his mind. Was he really experiencing this or had he simply dozed off in his chair without even realising it? Because if that wasn't the case, perhaps now it was a good time to start thinking about all the repercussions his current position encompassed.

But her fingers trailing up his spine somehow deterred him from doing so. He shivered. Her fingertips tickled his skin, dug in his hair and the instant his baseball cap toppled to the floor without much sound, he knew this had gone too far. Her hands embraced the top of his head, massaging his skull, fingers cradling his brow. Whatever headache the stress of the situation had caused him, he couldn't feel it.

He thought he should ask her by now what she was doing, if only for pride's shake but what he really wanted to ask her was if she was sure of what she was doing. He asked neither.

Slowly her hands descended to the sides of his face, her thumbs brushing on his stubble ever so lightly. Her fingers once again played him, as they tickled his face, his chin and beneath it. One fingertip gently brushed the bottom, then the upper part of his lips and sought access in his mouth.

That really did it. Whatever coil was pressing inside his gut up until now, sprang loose. Electricity surged up his backbone and spread through arms and legs, spiralling ever downward. It was too much.

Without thought, he caught that finger between his lips and kissed it, then sweetly sucked the rest within, his tongue rolling around soft skin. He felt a slight tug of her hand and that inflamed him. No, he was already speeding down a highway with no brakes, there was no escape. He reached for her hand in a firm grasp and decided he should taste another of her smooth, little, trigger-happy fingers. And another one. One by one and as much as he could all together. Sated by their fine wine, he pushed his lips against her palm in a deep kiss. Moisture clung to his face, but it didn't matter.

She leaned ever forward. He felt her free hand go downward from his neck to caress his chest for a while, then it drifted towards his belly. She was so close now, having to bend over his chair to reach him. Her breath came out heavy and coated his ear again and again but it was impossible to feel any more aroused than he was now. It came as a surprise to him how he hadn't snapped out of control. But this was a time for feeling not thinking.

He reached his hand to caress her neck, brush his fingers through her short hair, feel the characteristics of her face.

As a punishment for this audacious behavior from his part, the biting came. He felt her lips, her teeth digging at the flesh of his ear.

The pain! How much pain had he felt over the years as he heard every bone in his legs snapping in a rhythmic tune whenever possible and usually at the most awkward times. And how much pain had he felt whenever he realised he couldn't follow them in things so usual and mundane, those he might have known or acknowledged. And eventually they shunned him. Not out of spite or anything, this was inevitable. He was a cripple after all. And there was pity a lot back at those days. But this woman didn't pity him at all. He understood this. She wanted to torture him. To kill him and his chair and his crutches and everything he believed and fought so hard to gain, with her sweet torture. This pain was so much different. And how he wanted to participate!

He didn't stop caressing her, though. His touch turned harsher, wilder, possessive. He didn't mean to. He needed to give her something of what she inflicted on him, as a slight protest.

She bit harder on his ear. Blood came out but she was quick to lick it, quick to comfort the small wound and quick to trace her tongue to his earlobe. The warmth of her mouth burned him.

They made no sound. They weren't allowed to make any sound.

He had been gulping down one moan after the other all along. It was his shock at first, then the embarrassment but now it was fear of getting caught. They were in too far.

Her mouth scorched rough marks on the skin of his neck, like a burning cigarette. He wanted to bring her close, to give her a taste of his own medicine, but it seemed impossible!

He would scream to her, scream to let him consume her, but something compelled him to stay composed.

Her hand ripped through the buttons of his jumpsuit as easily as she had ripped through his defenses. She was indeed a formidable adversary.

But as she reached to relieve him of his agony, of his waiting, something pulled inside him.

- No! He mumbled in a choked tone, disbelieving himself.

Grabbing her arm that he held all along, he forced her to abandon her hiding place behind his chair and stand to face him. She resisted and she was strong but his will and his arm (from all those years of walking around on crutches) was stronger.

He felt sheer joy seeing her stand above him with her rigid stature. Her face was stiff and grim like any other day, but inside her eyes he saw a bruised pride. He had won this round, for now but he knew he wouldn't get a word out of her mouth.

He looked at her. Was she really that same woman that barked orders at him through the comm? Was she really that same woman who'd just given him a piece of her personal paradise back there?

-Won't you talk to me? What's wrong? He tried desperately not to beg.

She wouldn't answer him. She saved all her pretty words for Alenko. He felt such a jerk!

He pulled her close. Her eyes were overflowing pools of blue.

-What's this, some kind of game? He said angrily. Got nothing to play with and thought you'd blow off some steam with the cripple kid? Make him feel welcome to the Normandy? What, Kaidan turned you down?

He stopped himself, but it was too late. Her eyes froze as steel.

- You idiot! She exhumed.

He let her hit him. A knuckle punch square on the jaw, its force enough to turn your head the other side and make it spin around. Blood trickled from his lip. He didn't bother to wipe it. He deserved this. The profanity of his mocking words now rung on his ears. He had been dearly afraid that all this was a lie, a cruel joke on his part. But there was no excuse. How did he let those things escape his mouth? He was no better than all the others who ever made fun of him. He fed this. How blind had he been...how foolish. He had gone and destroyed the most precious little moments of his whole damned life!

- Forgive me, I...he stuttered.

Her kiss shut him up for good. It was forceful, penetrating, hungry, absolute.

He gave it back with all his might, tried to pull her ever close.

That's when she rode him.

- Careful...easy...he whispered, afraid that his legs would once again steal the show.

Her body was in his hands now, they travelled all over her with a thrill.

- What would you want me to do? What do you want me to do to you? He pleaded with enthusiasm. He couldn't keep his voice down. He was talking too much, as always and he knew it.

Decisively, he pulled her top up taking in the pleasure of her naked breasts with hand and mouth. She pressed him close. His other hand was free to explore and quickly it snaked through her pants. The vibe he got from between her legs hit him even harder than her previous punch. He absolutely had to savor it. Almost tearing her jumpsuit apart, he lifted her with both arms towards his mouth. The taste was precious, unparalleled.

Normally he would have thought this over, he would have conjured up a plan before the act, thinking of every little detail that he would do. But it was impossible with this woman. He simply had to give her all that he got and whatever came naturally to him at the heat of the moment. Honestly, he didn't know what he was doing.

But whatever it was, it seemed to break her. She had been quiet all along but now her desperate moans filled the navigation room. Anyone passing outside would definitely hear. He wanted to tell her to keep it down, tell her that it was too risky, that they would have to find another spot eventually, but would there be another time or another place? Besides, he would kill for that music that now overwhelmed his senses. He said nothing.

It was not long before she came to sit on him. But time didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now. He knew he couldn't do much in this chair. In fact he couldn't do much at all. But that didn't matter either. He let her jump him to her heart's content, as much as he hadn't let any woman jump him before. But this time there was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hold him back. He simply enjoyed it, the view of her on top of him galloping like a wild amazon treading to war, the pleasure they both got from it, the pleasure his hands got from her body, the pleasure his ears took from her screams, the pleasure of feeling her nails carve the skin of his shoulders as she jumped him. This was heaven!

And then, with a ferocious kiss that barely ate him alive, they reached that peak, untreaded for so very long. She endured it with a silent scream inside his mouth, a scream that would spell disaster on both of them should it had come out unrestrained. And he was there to hold her.

Slowly they became still. She nested her head under his chin for just a second but before he could embrace her, he lifted her head and looked up at him. All that she ever felt was there, radiating from inside her eyes. He gave her back that look, as best he could. Was it possible then that she felt for him what he felt for her all along? But the true extent of his emotions was never clear to him, up until now.

She came to her feet and hastily fixed her dishevelled uniform.

- What? Where are you going? He whispered, exhausted. He grabbed her arm again but he already knew she had to leave.

- Don't go! He pleaded breathlessly but it was in vain. She turned her back to leave.

-Shepard! Halting, she looked back at him.

- Just tell me, why me?

He was never one to ask such things but there she got it.

-I can't control this, Jeff. Can you?

He couldn't. He simply wanted her with all his heart.

Quietly, as she had come, she slipped out of the room.

Tomorrow morning, she would be his Commander again. It's just that now she was so much more than that.


	2. Suspicions

**2.**

If he wanted to be perfectly honest with himself, he didn't expect much to happen after that. He didn't expect their little midnight escapade would go anywhere further than this, or anywhere deeper for that matter. It wasn't just that he didn't have the slightest clue as to where her feelings were standing, he didn't know if any of them could possibly handle the scandal, if _this_ ever got out. He wasn't exactly a stranger to gossip gone wild: "Flight Lieutenant unclogging Commander Shepard's tubes". It would be all over the vids in no time.

What was it they were having anyway? You couldn't call it a relationship. Damn, it wasn't even a fling. So in fact, he didn't expect anything at all. Half of him thought it was just a one-night thing to be considered forgotten the next day. Just something they both wanted, it happened and now it was through.

- Yea, Joker rational thinking is the best thinking, he kept reminding himself in the morning. Keep your legs on the ground, or you'll break them. You'll be fine.

But deep down inside he was grateful the whole thing actually happened.

As if by some strange twist of fate though, he was totally wrong in those assumptions. And as he had no way of knowing it, he was left to that when the night before he was too exhausted to even walk to his pod and slept in the pilot's chair.

The first clue came to him later the next day.

It was shortly after passing through the nearest Relay to Window System when Kaidan Alenko entered the navigation room; his unusually loud and heavy step making it clear that he was upset. He sat in the co-pilot's seat without so much as a short greeting and began working fervently upon the holographic panel that spread before him.

Joker's chest stiffened briefly as he watched him coming forward decisively. He really wasn't in the mood for such a confrontation. He never did fantasize himself as a gallant knight atop a white steed, fighting a deadly duel with his antagonist in love. He was the kind of guy that would usually fall back and let the other man have the girl. No matter what, he wasn't sure he would let go so easily this time, if it ever came to that. Lucky for him, Kaidan simply wanted to work his frustration out, _without_ having to be in the mess hall. And that alone spoke volumes.

He couldn't help but give out a little smirk considering what might have happened.

It was true she had been chatting with him casually from time to time. Everybody knew that. But then again she chatted casually with practically everyone aboard the Normandy. They had exchanged life stories, they had exchanged pleasantries. But perhaps enough was enough and today the final line was drawn.

_Poor Kaidan, if only you knew..._but he shouldn't ever learn.

Or was it that something else had happened to Alenko, something irrelevant to the whole thing? He hated that everything was so vague and that he had nothing solid to go from.

The second clue came a lot later, after he had confirmed their arrival to the station, when she decided to monitor their approach to the Citadel from the navigation room. This wasn't at all uncommon whenever they reached dock, but Joker caught himself wondering for the first time why it was so, besides her less than obvious interest in docking bays. She walked in formally and stood beside him as usual.

- Commander? He addressed her, trying not to sound overjoyed.

Kaidan shot her the brief, stern look of a man rejected and focused harder on his monitor. She didn't return the look. Instead she gazed straight ahead, towards the Citadel opening up as if to welcome them inside its arms.

- How are we doing, Joker? She asked formally.

- Smoothly, ma'am. We are reaching port in a few seconds.

- Very good, Joker. Carry on.

He couldn't resist to take a side peek of her. It wasn't that he had the chance to look at her face so often.

And then she did the most amazing thing. She covered her upper lip with her tongue, as if to cover a mischievous grin or a shameful thought. But her eyes were smiling and she just looked back at him for the most brief of seconds, then she left.

- Focus. On. The Work. Now; he made a mental recite, trying to fight off the shivers down his spine.

The third clue wasn't even a clue. It was a fact.

A few hours had passed since they reached the Citadel and he leaned back at his chair, trying very hard (and failing at ) not to think about her, about the previous night when his torture officially began.

Alenko had darted out of the Normandy as soon as they touched down. He mumbled something about getting a drink or something.

And there it was. A pop-up on his screen alerting him of a message. It originated from one of the monitors in the mess hall and inside lay a single cryptic question:

Do you know of any quiet places to get a drink in this Station?

Joker thought this for a while. He'd heard things from various sources and various contacts, he'd tried only half of them. But there was this one place that seemed ideal for the job. He decided his reply should be equally telegraphic:

The Stellar Drifter. 10.00 pm. Side alley.

He even remembered the place's logo, a rather ragged spacer wearing a worn armor suit. A large utility pack was strapped on his back, bursting with all kinds of odds and ends. He was going down the long road of some forgotten planet, assault rifle in hand, facing ahead, never looking back. The Drifter was run by a krogan, who also happened to be the bartender, if only for the thrill of bar fights. Unfortunately, his equally eager bouncers, also of krogan origin, saw to it that this rarely happened.

He reminded himself to calm down his haste and overeagerness, unless he wanted to slip on his crutches.


	3. Decisions

**3.**

Five minutes before ten, he was there. Thank the Maker for elevators and rapid transit systems, or it'd take him an eon to reach the place. He leaned back at the club's wall, if only to rest his arms. He had picked casual clothes for this, they didn't want to attract attention, but then again it was just his way of dressing up in general. Leather black pants with trainers and a dark blue T-shirt. Nothing special but this place wasn't "L' or d'amour" or something, anyway...

Damn! What was he doing? Was he really going out on a date with her? Ok, it was highly unlikely here, but what if someone saw?

Butterflies were dancing in his stomach, his heart beating so hard it could break.

Before he had the chance to dwell in his panic though, he saw her entering the alley. Her step was calm, confident and as her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness of the surroundings, she walked towards him.

He though she'd wear her uniform to come to their meeting or at least her jumpsuit, but no.

Black, tight, sleeveless top with a neck and a light brown flak skirt, just above the knees. Black net covered her legs that showed as she walked on top of short, flat boots. She looked awfully retro, like a heroine from some old comic book. He liked it.

As she came to stand before him, he was at a loss for words. He realised now, too late, that he hadn't come up with a single smart line to say, all this time he'd spent waiting for her.

He wrecked his mind. Only lame lines like "Nice weather, huh?" or "Is it a bit chilly tonight?" were present there. He bit his lip nervously.

- What? She said looking at herself, You don't like it?

- No, I adore it...I mean not the dress...it's you, well the dress is pretty cool too I guess since you're huh...in it. Oh, crap, you must think I'm a complete idiot!

- Jeff, relax. Can you please be yourself?

- You're gorgeous.

- That's better...

- I half thought you'd come in here bringing a gun or so. Guess I was wrong.

- Well, not totally wrong...

Looking around, she lifted one fold of her skirt to reveal a pistol strapped on her right thigh with a leather belt.

If he could, he would just fall on his knees right there and please her, tear right through that black net of hers with his teeth and please her.

- That's my girl, all right, he said. He kept his eyes closed a second longer than was expected.

- I like that. What you just said.

- Ah, shouldn't we go inside? he suggested, quickly looking to the other side, towards the end of the alleyway.

A half-drunk human and his asari girlfriend had just come stumbling in. They squeezed against a corner there and started pulling off some clothes while making out frantically.

- Yeah, that would be better.

Inside, the place was dim. Only the bar had red and green lights coloring it.

They sat in a booth comfortingly placed at the far end of the room, between a back window, some plants and the restrooms.

He hoped in his seat effortlessly, placing his crutches near him towards the corridor. He was used to doing that. She sat opposite to him.

A slight layer of grease covered the seats and table of the booth.

- I'm sorry, I know this isn't the right place for...he began.

- This is exactly the place I was hoping for, she cut him.

The bar was nearly empty, just a few regulars. A human waitress in a sexy leather suit came for their order. She nearly stumbled on his crutches.

- Oh my God, you're Commander Shepard! The hero of Eden Prime! She shouted loud enough that even the bartender heard her.

- No she's not! he broke, hitting his fist on the table, making the ashtray jingle. He calmed down almost instantly. Look, I'm sorry, we're not on business here.

The waitress was taken aback by his behavior, but quickly came to her senses, a strange look of acknowledgement in her eye

- No, no _I_ am sorry, she told them under her breath. I...I didn't realise...I...I...I made a mistake. I'm sorry. Take whatever you want. Drinks on the house.

A slight disagreement between the waitress and the krogan bartender soon occurred. Apparently, the krogan didn't like his employees upsetting the few customers he ever got. This was a place were people came to find refuge from the harshness of reality, he said. Their order was quick to come, nonetheless.

Silence was pregnant between them. It was as if they suddenly understood the gravity of their situation, what they were doing, what was going on.

He let a deep sigh come out his lungs, then reached forward from his seat and took her hand. It felt so good sitting there, just holding her hand upon the table.

His gaze drifted outside the window, upon those that passed by.

- I don't care, you know. He paused.

- I don't care that you're Commander Shepard. That you're some war hero. That you're a Spectre. That says nothing to me about who you truly are inside. That's not why I feel for you.

He turned to face her. She returned the look.

- Everyone sees the bigger picture. They just see Commander Shepard, an alliance marine, that never flinches from her duty...or just a military tool. That's all very obvious to anyone that might look. But who you are just doesn't show in those things...They miss the _detail_. It's in the little things you do, it's in the little, everyday things you say and do, and I'm not referring to your picking your nose, here...

She laughed slightly. His voice softened.

- It's in your smile. It's not in the things you do, it's in the _way_ you do them. It's in the things you sacrifice, Shepard. It _is_ the things you sacrifice of yourself that define you. And no one can see that just by looking at you. It takes time, it takes...interest.

Damn! Whatever was he talking about? Was he really just pouring all these stuff out on her? All those things he had been thinking in secret, he had been thinking in agony over all those sleepless nights? But those were meant to be kept inside, to be revelled in, not spoken. He sounded no different than Alenko now, with all his fancy talk. He leaned back at his seat.

- Ah, forget I said anything...

- Do you remember when you asked me why I chose _you_? She finally spoke.

- Yeah, I do. What about?

- You've just given yourself the answer.

He fell back with obvious surprise.

- ...You knew all along, didn't you? You weren't fishing me out last night. You knew...

- You' re not the only one who's been watching with interest.

- I guess not, he laughed nervously. He never saw any of this. He never did pick up the signs because he didn't even think there were signs, because he had convinced himself it was impossible that there were any signs.

A moment of silence came between them. He leisurely stroked her hand with his fingers. Upon her wrist he felt something rough. He rolled her hand over. Something was carved there just below her palm. It could easily be a flesh wound if only for its depiction. He couldn't make it out. He passed his thumb over it briefly. It was a mark.

She saw him scrutinizing her wrist, not so much with curiosity as with worry. She didn't make any move though. He didn't ask, either. This was not a time for painful memories. They faced more immediate problems.

- Just out of curiosity, what did you say to Kaidan?

- I told him "No".

Frankly, that's all he needed to know.

However, there seemed to be no end in those silent intervals that eventually fell in between pieces of conversation. Despite everything that had played out between them, they remained by a large scale, strangers. But he didn't need anything more right now, he was content to embrace her knees between his legs, under the table. The booth was so narrow that allowed him that pleasure.

- It was a man, you know, back on Mindoir. _He_ gave me this. He looked down upon her wrist.

- Look, you don't have to tell me...if you don't want to.

- I was just a kid back then. He had a stash full of things in his shed, hidden in the mountains. I'd sneak back in there and watch him. I was curious. He was a smuggler, probably a slaver too. He had this thing...he had no skin on his face. It seemed like he was really badly burned. He saw me once, told me to leave and never return and he told me a thousand times after that. But one day he caught me. He just jumped from behind and caught me and dragged me to his shed. He pulled out his combat knife and marked me. He said if I liked it so bad here, I could as well stay and be his property. At night, as he half-slept, I ran and never went back. I think now he just did it to scare me off and it really worked. Never even spoke about it before, everyone thought I'd just scraped myself somewhere. It's the strangest little thing, really. I don't know what it is.

The air grew stale around him

- There's more to it than this, isn't there?

- The slavers back on Mindoir? It wasn't the Alliance that saved me. It was _him. _Just seconds before the attack, he came up to the yard of my house and snatched me. He locked me up in the shed, urging me to keep quiet. Then the marines found me. I never saw him again. He didn't even explain himself, you know, what were his intentions...

Why was she telling him this? This was a story she'd never told before, it was a story that no-one knew. It wasn't on the records. He had looked quite thoroughly. Somehow she had shielded this man, whomever he was, as a favor returned for saving her so many years ago. Why let go now? Why with him? He would never have asked her of her past. He would never poke her to reveal the great philosophical meaning she'd conjured up in the aftermath of some daring adventure. Hell, this date was much more than he ever expected. Since last night he was determined to follow whatever breadcrumbs she'd throw him, even if it meant a broken heart. But this wasn't a path, it was a way. An experience so purely horrifying, so purely...human. And what could he say to something like that? That he had done the occasional drug, slept with couple of whores or that hideous tattoo he had at the end of his spine? Horror took him that perhaps he was just way out of her league.

- Look, I haven't exactly been an angel in life, you know. But you've shared secrets, they're safe with me. I won't lie to you. I'm confused. I'm scared. Where we're treading now, it's too deep. Balance is feeble enough as it is. Fuck! We have to figure out what we'll do.

- I don't know, Jeff. I honestly don't.

- Do you want us to keep meeting in shady bars? I'll do it! Do you want me to tell you about how fucked up my childhood was in some tear-filled monologue? I'll do that too! Be all quiet when you ride me in the pilot's seat? I'll be damned, but I'll do it! Just draw me a plan here, because I'm at a loss. The whole thing just came out of the blue and moved so fast. I don't know what to think anymore.

He shook his head.

- Don't get me wrong. This is like a dream come true for me. And you, I've never met anyone like you. Ah, crap, there I go again. I don't know what to do...

- You know what to do! she broke. We hide and we pretend. You just don't like it. And I don't like it either. But it's absolutely the only option we have.

That was true. He didn't like it at all. Whatever he got in his life, he earned it by hard work, by daring, by not letting others limit him to what he would do. But life's irony finally came to that he had to do exactly the opposite to hold on to what he cared for. Her.

He nodded half-hearted.

- I've got to go, she said in a hurry. Be as late as you can be.

He pulled her close for a last kiss. Who knows when he'd kiss her again?

She was out the door in no time.


	4. Confrontation

**_With my dark, black side grace me_**

**_And if I don't love it_**

**_How do you want me to overcome it?_**

Alkinoos Ioannidis_, Edgar Allan Poe

* * *

_

**4.**

_We do do do _

_what we must must must _

_til we bust bust bust!_

That was the kind of person Kaidan Alenko was. Not that he didn't appreciate the guy. It was just that he had absolutely zero tolerance for people like him. They were the kind of people that succeeded in making both their own and others' lives miserable, without actually _doing_ anything, or in fact _because_ of that.

All in all, Kaidan Alenko was his exact opposite. Joker had only impulse in the face of his temperance, audacity to battle his obedience, _passion _to counteract his placid reserve. Kaidan was strong with a different kind of power; quiet, calm and predictable like an artificial lake with the occasional rainstorm. He, on the other hand, could barely control his wildfire as barely as he could control his opinion.

As he sat alone in the table of the mess hall, pretending to check something over one of those portable mainframes, he thought all this.

Nobody understood. They just mistook his temperament for immaturity. They looked upon him like nothing more than a child, an ingenious one but still a child. They couldn't understand that apart from skill, he had to take mortal risks when flying this ship. He had to have the nerves to put everyone's life on the line and face the consequences if something went wrong. And he did, because it had to be done. Because if he didn't, not only would they have been all dead by now, but they wouldn't have accomplished many of their missions. It took balls to fly this ship, to break it, to manipulate it to do all that it did and save lives in the process. And as you broke it, it was yourself you saw breaking. He knew exactly what he was doing. But nobody could see that. They just assumed he acted crazy, without really considering the consequences. Well fuck them!

And they praised Alenko! The battle-hardened soldier who obeyed unquestioningly, the marine with the gentle soul and the sad eyes that had a kind word for everyone, the powerful biotic who, by the way wasn't a bigot. He wanted to puke. He hated the way Kaidan followed her around like a dog, it would be _terrible _if he tried to do anything similar. The cling! cling! of his crutches, the CRACK! of his bone...he couldn't even run behind her with decency. They praised Alenko! But even he couldn't see who she truly was.

_Balancing precariously upon the branch of a tall tree, she just lay there daydreaming. An old fashioned automatic pistol was in her hand and the other held the cigarette she occasionally brought to her lips for a deep blow. She gazed at the stars but her mind overflowed with earthly thoughts. How she could trick the ugly man with the burned face and torture him so much that he would finally break and let her be his accomplish in mischief. Or perhaps there were tiny thoughts of seduction in the cocktail. She had already fantasized him nailing her somewhere in a corner of that old shed of his. She played the image in her head and her body shivered and it wasn't just the numb feeling that heights gave her. To torture him, if only to hear his hoarse voice telling her No! And that face of his that looked like death from some horrible disease that frightened her was so compelling. The danger and lust. She was __only sixteen, after all. And how she would shoot at the ground beneath the boys, her classmates, that hang for hours beneath that tree at Saturday nights. But she had her mind set on the Scary Man._

Much as she had her mind set on him, now. He admitted he felt a little jealous of the man with the burned face, anyhow. She had grown since then, but still she was a wild child, much like him. And as much as she knew she had to hide this beneath an N7 uniform, she hadn't changed. But sacrifices must be made, if only to prevent another Mindoir, if only another girl in another Mindoir can pick up her daydream from where she left it on the tree. And _that _didn't just make her a hero in his books. He made her _human. _And that was the fucking important. Kaidan Alenko could never see these things, because trying to block out all light and sound from his mind, he didn't leave the slightest ray of sun for the shadow of a tree.

And speaking of the devil, the man himself walked into the mess hall. But instead of directing his attention to the usual control panels he worked on, he approached and sat opposite to him. If Joker wasn't so lost in his personal inquiry, he would have seen the purpose in Kaidan's eyes.

- Is the Commander on board? Kaidan asked innocently.

- Nope! Attending a meeting with Captain Anderson and Ambassador Udina as we speak.

Kaidan smirked bitterly at this spectacular display of information.

- I wanted to talk to you, Joker, the Lieutenant purred like a hungry cougar

- Really, what about?

- About Commander Shepard.

Joker had desperately tried to ignore him, appearing busy in front of the holographic screen. But the hammer just hit the nail and he looked up at him. The time had come for "the talk".

Joker left a deep sigh and let his eyes fall on the hard surface of the table.

As if this signal wasn't enough, Kaidan continued.

- There's no need to try and hide it from me. I already know.

A puzzled expression played upon Joker's features.

- You think I hadn't noticed, but one usually does when he _really_ cares about something. Of course, she was more discreet than you, but still...I doubt you even saw it coming.

- I'm not having this conversation with you, Lieutenant. The decisiveness in his voice surprised even himself.

- I'm not looking for details, Joker. I just want to make sure that you won't break her heart.

- What?

- This is not about your intentions. It's about what you _will_ do. When this...this game is over...this hide-and-seek.

_This game? Oh so now he saw how it was. If there wasn't a serious look on the face, some grave words underlying a hidden meaning and a ring no less, it was rubbish. But he didn't need any of that. Those things meant nothing to him and couldn't possibly make up for a lifetime of hiding. He needed the small things. Her hearty laugh, the way she folded her legs underneath the table or bite at her fork. All he wanted was her being happy. He wanted to make her happy. That was when he was happy too. That was why he played the clown stuck in his pilot's chair, just to hear her laugh or why he pushed the Normandy into crazy stunts so she could do things her way. But he wasn't stuck anymore. He was walking._

- Who the hell do you think you are? He wasn't shouting. His voice was calm, composed.

- What did you say to me? Kaidan protested.

- You heard me, Alenko. This has nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with power or pleasure or position or whatever perversion you take comfort out of thinking I have in store for her. It has nothing to do with who's a better man for her. We have already decided. This is all about her...and me. And what we want to do with each other. We, and none else, gets to see the end of this.

He didn't even wait for the other's reply, as he straightened himself on his crutches and didn't stop, until long after he'd left the Normandy.


	5. Future

**5.**

He didn't know how much time had passed but he guessed it must have been at least hours. He sat on one of many steps that descended through a corridor, somewhere in the Wards. It must have been some kind of maintenance route or shortcut that helped the keepers go about their daily routine as discreetly as possible. Few were the times that the panel doors actually opened to reveal a passer-by that looked upon him curiously then continued on their way. The walls were dimly colored by red lights that made the air seem hazy. His retreat here was inevitable, he had gone too far, his arms hurt, his legs too. But he needed someplace quiet to think.

No matter how annoying, let alone insulting, his conversation with Kaidan had been, it alerted him to one thing that so far had remained elusive: Words meant too little. It was true that he had given her a slight piece of his mind on his feelings, perhaps much more than he wanted to, but this wasn't the way. Eventually, he would find himself beating around the bush, instead of telling her directly what he felt. He wasn't used to big words. In fact, he wasn't used to any of this: romance wasn't an integrated part of his life.

Actions, on the other hand, spoke louder. He had established that even before he reached this step. He had been so terrified that all this was simply an ugly hoax from her part while he hadn't done anything specific to prove that he wasn't an elephant either. Something flickered in his mind, even as the corridor doors opened once again to reveal her well-muscled body. She was fully armored and the lights on all four of her guns glowed in unison only to intensify the mixture of anger and worry that spread on her face.

- What were you thinking? She bellowed as she lurched towards him and her voice slapped the walls. Are you trying to break a leg or something Jeff? Is that what you want?

He tried to stand up and get his bearing but his arms still felt quite numb, his legs hurt badly. He forced his weight against the wall, a grimace of pain briefly taking the form of his visage.

Just an inch away from him, she stopped.

- Are you trying to get me worried? Attention, is that what you want? She whispered under her breath.

- No! he said grimly.

- I've asked Dr. Michel and a medic team to pick you up. I'm pulling this as a personal favor, Jeff. Don't overdo it.

- How did you find me, anyway?

- The tracing beacon on your jumpsuit? They told me you practically flew out of the ship!

Momentary silence and then...

- Kaidan knows, he said reluctantly.

She frowned a little.

- Don't worry. I don't think he'll tell.

She sighed.

- It was a matter of time. Eventually everyone will find out, she remarked neutrally.

He realised they already knew that.

Silence fell once again and the insignificant color of the floor seemed strangely comforting.

Suddenly he snapped his head up. She looked him in the eye.

- I know I will never be able to join you in a fight. I will never have the pleasure to cover your flank as you throw a grenade. But as long as she's in my hands, the Normandy will save your life, no matter what it takes. And if you need a shoulder, no if you need arms to cry into, they're mine...

- What's gotten into you Jeff? We've been over this...

- No! Listen to me. I've got some credits I've been hoarding up in my account. No reason, really.

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, impetuously.

- There's this old ship back at the base where I trained. Arcturus? She's such a big piece of junk. My supervisor had told me that if I ever wanted her, she was mine. I used to get in there and fix her up gradually but I had to give up when I was assigned to the Normandy. When I have the time, I'll go back and finish her for good.

- Why are you telling me this now, Jeff?

He got the distinct impression she took pleasure out of repeating his name. He did too.

- Come with me.

- What?

- When we take our next leave, come with me. I'll fly you to any godforsaken planet you want and bring you back in one piece.

She crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him intently, unbelieving to what she had just heard.

- Say yes.

At that moment, the doors opened once again and four interns stepped in, carrying a stretch. Dr. Cloe Michel followed short behind.

They both turned and looked at the approaching medical team with agony.

- Well? he urged her.

She looked at him dumbfounded then quickly gave a small nod

- Yes.

_In your face, Scary Man!_


End file.
